There are empty bottles everywhere. The bathroom is a mess of knocked over bottles and glass shards, and in the centre is Jimin.
And he's unconscious.
I reach out and grasp the edge of the door frame, supporting myself on unsteady legs. Tears are slipping down my face and I'm choking out to Yoongi to do something. He's already kneeling beside Jimin by the time the words leave my lips, brushing away the shards of broken glass all around him.
Taking in a deep steady breath, I step away from the door and approach Yoongi, careful of the glass. Jimin's hands are scattered with bleeding cuts caused by the broken glass, and my eyes widen when I fully take in his form.  Whatever happened in here was caused by Jimin's emotional outburst. My breaths come out painful, it hurts to even think about it.
Yoongi meets my eyes and he nods almost imperceptibly, sliding his hands under Jimin's knees and shoulders. He lifts Jimin up with struggle clear on his face, but his expression still holds a look that tells me I can't help. I dip my head down, shoulders shaking slightly, even as Jimin is carried to the bedroom. When Yoongi leaves, I allow my tears to break free. The pain in my chest is unbearable, and it consumes me, leaving me with little to no freedom. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly and sob into my hands, feeling low. This was all my fault, and it would only ever continue to be just that.
My cries are hard, tears sliding down my cheeks mercilessly, hands clenched into weak fists. I drop to my knees and bury my face in my hands, body racking with dry, choked sobs. A few minutes later I hear Yoongi step back in, and his arms immediately go around my shoulders, offering me support.
"I never meant to hurt him," I choke out, words muffled by Yoongi's shirt. His fingers weave through my hair, rubbing my tears away with his other hand.
"Shh, he's going to be okay," he soothes me, words gentle and soft, full of my sorrow reflected. His own hands are shaking and I reach up to grab them, locking our fingers in a show of understanding.
"I screwed up badly, didn't I?" I ask Yoongi, breathing heavily, shoulders slumping forward in resignation. His fingers tighten in mine and I know he doesn't have the heart to tell me that I'm right. Jimin was never supposed to hurt because of me. It was all my fault in the end, all me.
"He's okay, he should be waking up soon," Yoongi murmurs, hoping to ease the guilt weighing on my conscience. He probably knows how much I'm hurting myself trying to find blame. "You can fix this, I believe in you."
I feel like I don't believe in me at all, I'll just screw this up as well. My words don't make it to the outside and I smother my oncoming wave of tears by biting my lip harshly.
"What am I going to do?" I whisper, wrapping my arms around myself, feeling frustrated at the world and my own self. I can only continue to ruin people unless I find confidence in myself, but I know that will never happen. Yoongi sighs and wraps his arms around me, rubbing my back softly. His touch is somewhat soothing, and it lulls me into a false sense of security that is quickly broken.
"Let's go check on him, and then I'll make something for us to eat." I nod and move up, standing on trembling legs.
"I treated him badly, I was a coward. I was just scared of getting hurt, but I ended up making everything worse. When push came to shove, I ran," I whisper to Yoongi. He listens silently, empathy on his face. He knows what I mean, he's been in that position before and it didn't end well. He hasn't told Jin because he's scared of what he's risking, but for love, I guess you're supposed to risk everything.
To love is to destroy, to be loved is to be destroyed.
We leave the bathroom, ready for confrontation, grim looks gracing our faces. After that, I didn't th